


Bad Ideas

by Kittywitch



Series: Three Fics One Line Challenge [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, sleezes trying to get women drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittywitch/pseuds/Kittywitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Peri enjoy the amenities on a tropical planet; to excess in Peri's case. The Doctor finds himself in a minority, identifying as more or less male and not a total sleezeball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of the Three Fics One Line challenge. It's a simple challenge put forth by fic writers: Write three unconnected fics, as different as possible, with the same line of dialogue in it. You can choose the line of dialogue yourself or have someone else come up with it, just so long as you use the dialogue in all three fics.
> 
> It is also worth noting that at the time this was written, I had recently come across a reference to Peri not being able to pronounce the Doctor's name in an audio, and I was exploring the idea of her not being able to pronounce it; rather than him just not saying what it is with the excuse that she wouldn't be able to pronounce it anyone. I still feel that Peri knowing his name would account for the casual way she interrupted him saying it in The Mysterious Planet.

                       

            The Doctor scowled unhappily at the minute excuse for a fish at the end of his line. It was the largest he’d hooked all evening, but it was still far too small to cook, much less bother cleaning. Besides, the sun had well and truly set now, and that's when small, ugly, bitter-tasting and often mildly toxic fish came out. Pitying the small creature, and convincing himself it was inedible, the stocky blonde man removed his hook from the fish’s mouth and tossed it back into the water. He had always been fond of fishing, but this particular beach was so disappointing he was ready to give up. He was sure there was much better fishing ground further down the coast, but that got into the protected beach area and for some reason people protested if he attempted to fish there. He drew up his line, shook the sand out of his spats, and stood. He retrieved his jacket from where he’d hidden it, lest he scare off the fish, lay it over his arm and went off in search of his companion.

 

 

            Why Peri would think that sun-bleached, one-room cabana would be any more interesting than waiting in the setting sun while the Doctor fished was beyond him; but he excepted this partially because he knew that she’d have a much better time on her own and partially because he knew that if she sat by and whined the entire time she’d scare off more fish than his jacket. So the two travelers went their separate ways, prepared to meet up again when the sun went down or when one of them got bored. Or, of course, if one of them was attacked by a vicious alien monster and started either screaming or pontificating for the other’s attention. Knowing the way their lives went, this was actually the most likely scenario.

 

            While there were no screams of " _Doooctorrr! Help, it's gonna eat me!_ " wafting on the warm summer breeze, there was a great deal of singing, shouting, and general rowdiness coming from the cabana, which made the Doctor frown slightly. He leaned his fishing pole against the door jamb, hung his jacket over the tip of it, and pushed aside the bead curtain, finding himself in a place where he blatantly did not belong. It wasn’t his usual air of importance or being too colorful. For once, he was actually no more colorful than anything else in the cabana. He was simply horribly overdressed, even in his shirtsleeves. And sober. Men, women, tables, larger bottles were all draped in a colorful assortment of flowers, sarongs, and more bottles. On examination of the clientele, the Doctor’s distaste for the establishment increased. In not so much the center of the room as the center of attention, there were four human males between the ages of nineteen and twenty-six wearing almost as much as the Doctor between them. Each of them was young, tan, muscular, and each of them holding at least one fruity-smelling beverage; though none of them was drinking.

 

            Sitting in the middle of the group because she lacked the equilibrium to stand, his companion swayed from one shoulder to the next. It wasn’t that she was the sloppiest drunk he’d ever met, but she didn’t need to be. At least, the Doctor was sure he had met a sloppier, friendlier, drunker woman at one point in his travels. He could not point to any specific instance, but he was sure it had happened. For one matter, she didn’t appear to have vomited, which was always nice, and left her still clean enough for the men plying her with drinks to leer hopefully at her. For another, she was still able to form actual words, and they were even still in her grating American whine.

 

            “Hi, Doctor!” Peri called, waving so broadly she almost hit the men on either side of her in the head. In her excitement, she fell forward, nearly hitting the table. She would have landed on her face, but one of her new friends, a particularly fit specimen who appeared to be wearing a sleazily confident expression in lieu of a shirt, caught her before she landed. The Doctor couldn’t say he approved of the grip he used to catch her, but as he returned the young woman to a sitting position, she was laughing uproariously.

                                                                       

            “Sit down, Doctor. Have a drink.”

            “I daresay you’ve already had enough for both of us. And all of them.” He gestured to the men around her. He then glanced around the cabana and pointed at a random patron. “And her as well.”

            “I'm fine! Join us, these guys will think you're _really funny!_ ” she squealed, trying to find a seat to pat invitingly. Sadly, what she found to pat was a young man’s lap and the Doctor had no intention of sitting there.

            He frowned.                                   

            “That’s enough fun for you, I think.” said the Doctor, extending his hand towards Peri.

            “But Doctor-“ she whined.

            “I must insist, Peri. It’s time we were off.” With that, he took her firmly by the arm. The young men stiffened, gaining hostile expressions; and one actually was so forward as to put a hand on her waist. Peri looked startled, but otherwise didn’t react to either man.

            “Shove off, grandpa; she doesn’t want to go with you.” said the shirtless man.

            "That as may be, but I somehow doubt she would much prefer your company. Come along, Peri." He didn't bother tightening his grip, but simply lifted her up by the arm and assumed the rest of her would follow. She stumbled to her feet, a sharp giggle cutting out over the protestation of the remainder of the group.

            She swayed directly into him, her face almost entirely flattening against his shoulder. She then raised her hand and vaguely waved at the young men. This only incited them more. Out of the chorus of disappointed groans, one voice rang out.

            “Drop the geezer, love; the party’s only just starting!”

 

            He wasn’t going to talk to them at all. He was just going to take Peri by the arm and leave. He wasn’t going to acknowledge those idiots; they weren’t worth Peri’s time and they certainly weren’t worth his.

            He wasn’t sure why, but he was more offended by these young men then he felt he should be. Maybe it was their remotely disgusting behavior. Maybe it was because they insulted him. Maybe it’s because they were preying on his companion. Maybe it was that he was having trouble keeping his mind from coming up with increasingly creative and uncomfortable answers to the question “What would four men do with one drunken young woman when she was sufficiently inebriated?”

            Whatever the reason was, he stopped. He stopped, and turned and looked down his nose at the young men.

 

            “Who are you talking to?” the Doctor said coldly. “What is her name?”

            “What?” asked the one without a shirt.

            “I asked you a question. If you’re so desperate for this young woman’s company, you can address her properly. What is her name?”

            The young men growled and scoffed at each other, making mocking repetitions of the Doctor’s last statement. At length, one said, “Peri.” And the remainder of the group started repeating her name until they sounded like a flock of small birds.

            “And do any of you know what that is the diminutive of? Or her last name? Does a single one of you know her proper name?”

            "Does it matter?"

            "Well, I imagine it matters considerably to her." he answered curtly.

            “Well, look at this.” One of the men gestured broadly at the Doctor. “The geezer’s tryin’ to give us a lesson on love.” His friends laughed. The Doctor merely shook a finger at them.

            “No. No no no. Not at all. I really wouldn’t know; and that can’t be said of most subjects, but if you _were_ to come to me for advice on the subject I would suggest you tidy yourself up, bathe properly and try and put some effort into giving the impression you do not have a variety of venereal diseases.”

That statement got an even louder and angrier response. One of the men stood, holding his drink like an explosive. This actually pleased the Doctor; he wouldn’t have liked it at all if he didn’t get a reaction.

            “At least, try using a chat-up line less direct than, ‘Come on then, let’s have a kiss.’ “ He added, trying to look more severe than smug. This was still a vaugely serious situation. Well, at least for the young men. Being mildly scolded by him was likely the most dangerous thing that would happen in their entire lives.

            “It ain’t our fault you’ve got no humor, mate. We just wanted a bit of fun.”

            “No. You just wanted to get her drunk because you know that when you’re drunk, you think bad ideas are good ideas; and all of you know what horrible ideas you all are.”

            “Don’t be mean…” Peri began.

            “Quiet, Peri.” he scolded. “If you did have something to add to this discussion, I imagine you would have done it before I showed up.”

            In glancing down to reprimand Peri, he finally noticed that the human was starting to look awkward. Still drunk, still slumped against him like a dead body, Peri had managed to give him a most pained, embarrassed expression.

 

            He had it right in the first place. They weren’t worth her time and therefore not worth his. And he had given them his time. He frowned and turned both of them about on his heel, which was more impressive in Peri’s case because she hadn’t even been aware it was possible to turn on someone else’s heel. It helped that he was well over a head taller than her and supporting her entire body weight, letting her toes only just skim the ground.

            The yobos started shouting after them, but he really didn’t care and she didn’t even notice. Her focus was on trying to get her feet under her, because having been spun around like that while drunk convinced her that she really wanted to be moving herself. She stumbled and wrapped both hands around his waist, burying her face against his chest for balance.

 

            The man filling cups turned his head towards the door as the pair left. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a weird old man leave with a pretty young woman; and he was actually kind of glad that he’d taken her away from the young men. He couldn’t put his finger on why, though. Maybe it was that he at least seemed to know her. Or that there was only one of him. And who knew, maybe he actually was some nutter with a white knight complex.

            And maybe it would rain wine tomorrow.

 

            The travelers moved sluggishly through the sand. It filled their shoes and stuck to the bottoms of his trouser legs.

            "You know, Peri, I quite suspect that you could be walking a good deal better than this. I fancy you just like the idea of being carried home. I won't have it, you know. I'd drag you first. Or leave you on the beach."

            "No, you wouldn't." she chuckled.

            "No no, you're quite right, I wouldn't. But I must say that that was one of the most satisfying threats I've made in a long time."

            “Doctor?” Peri asked vaguely. “Did you just rescue me again?”

            “It was one of the least daring rescues I’ve ever had to perform; but yes. In a sense I did rescue you again.”

            “Oh,” she groaned, “Why do all our trips have to end like this?”

            “They don’t. They often begin this way.” said the Doctor curtly. “It’s quite alright. At this point I expect to do it, Perpugilliam.”

            “Thank you-“ at this point, Peri made a strange strangled noise that might have been a word at one point or another. It might have had the “th” or “s” sound somewhere in it, but the way she was slurring there was no guarantee.

            “Peri, you can’t pronounce my name even when you’re sober.” said the Doctor wearily. “I wouldn’t try it now that you’ve gone and gotten yourself knackered.”

            For a moment, neither spoke. Her focus shifted onto the action of moving through the sand, touched on the sound of water breaking and retracting from the shore, and finally settled on how comfortable she was when her head was essentially in his armpit. It was interesting, she was rarely in a situation where the fact he wasn’t human came up at all. But in this exact position, she could actually feel one of his hearts pulsing against her forehead and hear the other echo in response.

            “Doctor?”

            “Yes?”

            “You just go by ‘Doctor’. You once said there’s only two or three people who’ve ever even heard your name.” she said slowly. “Why did you tell it to me?”

            “Not a day goes by that I don’t ask myself the same question, Peri my dear.” He nodded in the ship’s direction.

            “Here we are.” The small timeship waited on the beach, almost as if it was pretending that its disguise was close enough to a changing booth to not look out of place.

            “Doctor, what planet are we on?”

            “I would tell you, Peri, but I fear you are too inebriated to pronounce _its_ name, either. In any case-” he tried to lean her against door frame while he searched his pockets for the key. “-we shan’t be here much longer. Steady on!”

            The Doctor dove forward, catching Peri beneath the arms as she slid steadily down the side of the Tardis. He righted her as best as he was able, attempted to prop her against the ship again, and raised her chin on his fingertips.

            “For the next few minutes, I would appreciate it if you focused your attention on standing. Are you capable of that?”

            She nodded as best as she was able with her face in his hand. He carefully withdrew his hand and paused, as one does when releasing something delicately balanced, then continued his search for the key. Upon finding it, at the end of the chain where it belonged, of all places, the Doctor opened the door and nudged her into it, feeling rather as if his companion were a liquid he was pouring into his ship.

            The two of them entered, Peri looking as pleased with herself for standing erect as a toddler taking its first steps and moving about as steadily.

            “I do not envy your morning, Peri.” he muttered disapprovingly, latching the door behind him. “If it were not for the headache you’ll have upon waking, I would have had a great deal more to say about tonight’s behavior.”

            “You know you like having something to do.” she smiled, perching unsteadily on the edge of the console. “Where would you be without me to rescue?”

            “Fishing.” he replied shortly. The Doctor moved in front of his friend, taking a position he normally only assuming in piloting and scowled at down at her. She looked almost ready to laugh.

            “Don’t sit there.”

            “Are you going to move me?” she smiled. The Doctor shook his head in disbelief.

            “Honestly, Peri. It borders on enough to convince me you’re nearly as bad as those troglodytes in the cabana.”

            She laughed.

            “Come on then,” said Peri, “Let’s have a kiss.” With no more warning than that, she took hold of his suspenders, hoisted herself up to the level of his face and planted her mouth over his.

For a moment, he was too startled to react at all. Then, he took a gentle but very firm grip on her shoulders and removed the young woman.

            "Peri, you are drunk." he said slowly. She stared up at him, wide eyed and pouting. She looked more surprised about this latest development then he was.

            “When you are drunk, you think bad ideas are good ideas, and this?” he indicated himself. “Is a bad idea. I’m old, I’m mad, and I’m not human. Now go back to your room, go to sleep, and in the morning neither one of us will ever speak of how you got back to the Tardis tonight.” Peri made a face that was sort of a nodding pout, communicating as much as anything else that she agreed sleeping was probably a good idea and while she was very fond of him their relationship was not one that should involve kissing; but she couldn’t help but feel somewhat rejected. She continued to nod while he guided her towards her bedroom door. She continued nodding until she disappeared into her room and made close friends with her bed, by way of collapsing full-length onto it.

 

            It would be inappropriate to watch over her after she had collapsed. Moreover, it would be inappropriate to lean on the jamb of her open door and stand guard until he was sure she’d actually fallen asleep. As he was standing there, being inappropriate, he asked himself again why he had told her his name.

            It was more accurate to say that their relationship was one formed through great deal of strife than, as they had joked, mutual tolerance of each other’s irritating nature. Peri had seen him in states he rather not even admit to entering. He had to keep her close, he didn’t want someone who’d been exposed to those aspects of his personality bouncing unescorted through the galaxy. Or even spreading horrible truths to one human. It was a necessity to an eye on her. But that alone didn’t account for proper-name intimacy.

            She had made an excellent point, however unintentionally. Why _had_ he told her his name?

He hadn't expressed it to her when he told her his name, but the very act of sharing it was, among his people, a level of intimacy reserved for spouses. It was one thing for them to bicker like an old married couple, but that had crossed the same line the kiss had. He was going to tell her what knowing his name meant, but something was lost when he couldn't teach her how to say it. He tried, but with each attempt he felt more awkward and less like they ought to be bound to each other in that way until he abandoned the prospect. It was better like this anyway. It rather was like the kiss, an awkward and unsuccessful extension of a platonic relationship. A bad idea.

            As what has just transpired, and the fact she’d initiated it, sunk into Peri’s mind, she attempted to feed herself to her bed. It wasn’t the kiss that was awkward. Quite the contrary, on the surface level it was very warm and cuddly and by all definitions a pleasant kiss. But this was inappropriate. This was the definition of inappropriate.

            “ _Yuck._ ” she groaned into the pillow.

 

            The Doctor shut the door to her bedroom, not entirely sure that she would be safe for the night but aware that the best thing to do for her was to let her sleep and give her a very hard time, and a lot of water, in the morning. The Doctor closed his eyes and let the five different ways that scenario could have ended play out in his head. The one that actually had occurred really was the preferable ending, which was good because it was the only thing he could do as a gentleman. He exhaled slowly, shook his head and walked away from his companion’s bedroom.

            Now he needed to go back and get his jacket and fishing pole.


End file.
